


ascendance

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Choking, Collars, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Declarations of love with a hand on your cock, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Emotional Intimacy, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Praise Kink, Subspace, Topspace, obviously, please let me know if you think i need to tag anything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The blissed out expression returns to his boyfriend's face, flushed, his eyes rolling. And throughout it all Korai focuses, hyper focuses, on the man beneath him.
Relationships: Hirugami Sachirou/Hoshiumi Kourai
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	ascendance

**Author's Note:**

> please heed the tags, this is unfiltered sex. anyway dedicated to you know who the fuck you are losers lol
> 
> how many times has twitter account hirugamithot called twitter account hoshiumeme daddy now?

  
Sachiro is on his knees.

Which is fine. It’s absolutely fine. Korai’s used to the sensation of swallowing his initial immediate rush of arousal at the sight of Sachiro on his knees. It’s just that-

He’s on his knees. Naked. In a- Fuck. In a collar.

Korai’s always stared a little too long at Sachiro’s body, even long before they’d started dating officially. Except with the years that had gone by, without volleyball everyday Sachiro’s gotten leaner. Softer.

And Korai’s gotten stronger.

It’s the first time he’s felt it this strong. He wants to _bite the_ curve of Sachiro’s neck where the collar sits a little too snugly.

“Say something,” Sachiro says and he hasn’t looked up yet. Waiting, Korai realises too late, for something like his approval.

It makes his dick hard and his cheeks flush.

They’d spoken about it before. At length. Outlined exactly what they wanted to visit, both of their limits and boundaries. He knows that Sachiro wants something a little dirtier than what they’d been doing. He knows that Sachiro wants it with him because of how much they trust each other.

Sachiro had told him, quietly, still in his turtleneck and jeans an hour ago, that he could back out anytime. That they could finish the evening with a bottle of wine and a few laughs.

And Korai had entertained it for all of two seconds.

The responsible part of him, the one that doesn’t like change fights ruthlessly with the pure carnal desire that slams into him. And there’s a part of him, a tiny part of him that has grown with his age, that isn’t quite sure he can handle what Sachiro is asking of him. If he’s capable of taking care of him the way he needs.

He’s overthinking. Which is unlike him. But then again so is eleven pm on a friday night, curtains open in his tokyo penthouse, stood in nothing but his boxers and memorising the curve of Sachiro’s back where he kneels before him.

Overthinking, he realises, is an insult to the man before him. Naked. In nothing but a collar.

The truth is he wants Sachiro, _like that,_ so unreasonably adently that he feels dirty. He wants Sachiro’s submission to him like the air he’s breathing. 

He knows what Sachiro needs. And Korai is okay with that. More than okay, adrenaline and arousal flooding through his veins. He wants to be the one to give Sachiro what he’s begging for. He wants to wreck him.

Korai’s fingers twitch. His heart races. his cock throbs. He gives in to the moment, to the overwhelming thud of arousal settling in the pit of his stomach, and steps forward to grab Sachiro’s chin.

He feels the sharp inhale, the relief pouring from his friend. Lover. Friend.

Korai tilts his face up, takes in those deep eyes, his pupils blown and his lashes dark. He takes in the blush on Sachiro’s cheeks, the ruddiness splattered across the bridge of his nose. The desperation etched into every inch of his perfect features.

There’s something vicious in his eyes though. Too aware, smug, even now as he’s trying to make himself submissive and small. Korai doesn’t mind it. Prefers it.

A challenge then. Sachiro trusts him with the task of making him fall apart.

“Safe word,” he prompts. Finally. Twenty minutes had passed since they had finished dinner and Sachiro had gone into Korai’s bathroom and decided to short-circuit his brain.

Sachiro almost whimpers. He can only tell because of the way his bottle lip trembles under Korai’s thumb. He presses in, lightly.

“Eggplant,” he says, the tip of his tongue brushing over Korai’s skin gently enough to make him repress a shiver. . He doubts Sachiro’ll ever have to say it, he won’t get that mindless. Surely.

“Good,” Korai whispers, watching Sachiro’s eyes flutter shut. He crouches, slips his fingers through his boyfriend’s soft wavy hair, tugs lightly. “Limits?”

A repetition of their conversation before. He needs Sachiro comfortable enough to say what he wants even like this.

“Don’t mark me,” Sachiro says, his breath ghosting over Korai’s lips. He knows why, he shares his own apartment with Korai’s captain. “Humiliation. Breaking skin.”

“Good,” Korai says again, feeling his body set alight. “Preferences?”

He can’t help himself, he leans in, presses a kiss to Sachiro’s waiting lips- Swallows the moan with ease.

“Answer me.”

Sachiro opens his eyes, stares at Korai dead on, the glint of defiance shining for a moment

“D-“

And he drops his gaze immediately.

He’s never known Sachiro to be shy of anything. It would be unnerving if it wasn’t so damn adorable.

“Say it,” he lets his voice drop, gravelly, tightens the hand in Sachiro’s hair. “Say it, baby.”

He watches Sachiro gather himself, watches those lashes brush over his cheek bones, his bare knees shuffle against Korai’s hardwood flooring. His cock jump in his boxers. 

“Daddy kink.”

It’s torn from his lips like a prayer. His body slumps with it. He still won’t look in the eyes.   
  
The roles have shifted slightly. Korai has a job to do, and he is eager to do it well. 

“Good. Boy.” His voice is firm. Impenetrable. Sachiro whimpers out loud this time. 

-

He never really thought of himself as a patient man. He’s restless, eager. There are goals in his life he understands waiting for, lofty things that he can negotiate and justify in his head, things that no matter how he looks at it - no matter how impatient he can be- knows deserve his upmost devotion and care.  
  
His career is one of those goals.   
  
So is, apparently, fingering his boyfriend.   
  
“Korai,” Sachiro pants, the sound muffled from where his face is pressed into Korai’s pillows. 

And Korai stops the gentle thrusting of three fingers inside him, presses a kiss to where Sachiro’s back ends its brutal arch. And he waits.

“Wh- Why did you-“ Sachiro sounds wrecked. It fills him with pride.

He waits. 

Sachiro groans, turns his head and glares, his eyes alight with defiance that makes Korai want to bend down and bite the ass presented to him. 

“You know why,” he says instead. Patiently. Firm.

Sachiro’s thighs tremble. His lips part, glistening and red.

“ _Daddy.”_ he says finally.

And Korai resumes. 

-  
  
He knows that Sachiro thinks he’s simply going to get fucked, throw the word around for a few moments of spiked pleasure. That they’ll make the bed squeak and thud against the wall and then they’ll pass out and laugh about it in the morning.

Which is precisely the reason why he pulls back when Sachiro moans have turned into nothing but soft little hums under his breath.

Korai intends to wreck him. To ruin Sachiro, _for anyone else,_ a part of him whispers. He wants to break him apart, piece him back together, get rid of his hyperactive little anxious mind and send him into a space where nothing matters but Korai’s hands on his body.

Starting now.

“Kneel.”

Sachiro moves without questioning the order, sliding to the floor with his usual grace. And then it clocks, as Korai’s stood above him. Sachiro frowns, looking at his knees as though they’re unfamiliar to him then back up.

His lips part. 

Korai knows defiance is coming.   
  
“Suck my dick,” he whispers, his voice firm even though a part of him is worried he’s pushing it. Pushing Sachiro.   
  
Sachiro looks at him, his eyes go glassy. He leans forward and wraps his lips around Korai and sucks, slow and wicked and mindless.   
  
Korai almost falls apart. Who needs- Fuck. Who needs gods, with all of Sachiro Hirugami on his knees for Korai.   
  
The power is intoxicating. The pleasure is intoxicating. Sachiro is intoxicating.   
  
“Good,” he breathes but his voice breaks when Sachiro tongues his slit. 

He can’t quite get over it. He runs his fingers over the broad expanse of Sachiro’s shoulders, digging in briefly to the muscles that work his neck, suppressing a shiver at the sight. He’s- So strong. His body, his arms, his thighs, his mind. It must be exhausting, Korai wonders, his fingers scraping over Sachiro’s jaw and into his hair, being so strong all the time. 

“Good boy,” he whispers again, watching the praise sink into Sachiro’s limbs, sucking in a breath when he moans around Korai’s cock, twitching in the heat of his mouth. 

Something switches in Sachiro at the praise. Korai feels long strong fingers wrap around his calves, feels the gulp and the tongue rolling against his cock and his eyes almost roll to the back of head. 

He feels Sachiro’s submission.   
  
Korai reaches out. Cups Sachiro’s face, pulls his cock from his mouth and tries not to fall apart at the moan. “You okay?” he murmurs, crouching down to press their lips together. 

Sachiro’s lashes brush over his cheek bones.   
  
“You’re treating me like I’m glass,” his boyfriend whispers, biting down on Korai’s bottom lip. He’d apologise, he would, he’d tilt his head and kiss Sachiro’s hands and beg him for forgiveness if he didn’t know that sometimes Sachiro wanted to be treated like glass. Like something fragile. To be taken care of and adored. “Hurry up and fuck me.”   
  
“I don’t believe in rushing a good thing,” Korai whispers against his lips, hooking his hands under his shoulders to prompt him into moving. 

“Oh I’m a good thing am I?” Sachiro huffs. On to the bed, on his back, with those strong capable legs spread wide. Sachiro realises what he’s doing but before he can snap his thighs shut, Korai is there. In between them. Kissing the tremble from his chest. 

Korai stills for a moment, looks up at him. Sits and lingers for a moment in the wave of adoration that slams into him. “The best,” he answers finally, thumb pressing softly on Sachiro’s parted lips.   
  
“You good?” he asks again and this time he gets a viscous punch to his arm.   
  
“Why are you being so-”   
  
“Because I love you,” he says, cupping Sachiro’s face, staring into those wide eyes, imploring him to understand. It’s easy to say, it’s so easy to say. And he knows its hard to hear for Sachiro. No conditions, no limits, no trial or test. Korai loves him. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”   
  
Sachiro groans and kisses him, biting on his bottom lip as though that will shut him up. But Korai has never been limited to one way of showing his adoration, and when he eases himself inside Sachiro he does it slowly. Lovingly. Adoringly.   
  
The blissed out expression returns to his boyfriend's face, flushed, his eyes rolling. And throughout it all Korai focuses, hyper focuses, on the man beneath him.   
  
“That’s-” Sachiro whispers, cutting off abruptly when Korai slowly draws his hips back. Sachiro keens before Korai’s even thrusted back in, a desperate little noise of apprehension that sets Kora’s blood on fire.   
  
“Sachiro,” he whispers, demanding his attention. He looks up and draws his brows together like it’s difficult to focus. His ass squeezes around the tip of Korai’s cock and he supposes it is.   
  
“Mhm?” he whines.   
  
Oh fuck. Oh god.   
  
“Say it.” Korai chokes out, arms either side of his boyfriend's head, trembling with the effort of not losing control, of holding himself incredibly still.   
  
Awareness, brief but there, filters into Sachiro’s blissed out expression, makes his eyes glint and his lips curve into a smirk.   
  
“Daddy,” he says, quick, without missing a beat, relentless.   
  
Korai slams his hips back in and wipes the smirk off his face.   
  
His lips part, mouth open on a scream that doesn’t sound. His eyes go wide, awed. And Korai groans, setting the pace deep and hard and fast, just how Sachiro has always liked it and yet different. It’s the same but different, the way they’re having sex now. He feels Sachiro giving up control, genuinely. He feels the trust between them strengthen. He loves this man with everything that he is.   
  
“Oh my-Oh fuck, fuck, Korai- you’re,” Sachiro says, a mess of a sentence. And Korai can’t stop it now, how proud it makes him to hear his boyfriend like this. He’s barely aware of the noises he’s making, how feral they are, how he loses them into the curve of Sachiro’s lips. Nothing is as important as the feeling of being inside him, the tension building and building in the pit of his stomach.   
  
He’s so attuned to Sachiro that he knows its coming by the hitch in his breath, the way his hips tilt and he grinds them frantically against Korai’s. He has to hold them down with one hand, has to pin him down despite the defiant little whimper. 

“Fuck, you feel good, baby,” Korai pants, teeth hovering over Sachiro’s extended neck before he remembers with a jolt _no marking me_ . Instead he feels Sachiro laugh, breathless. “Laugh as much as you want,” he huffs, “I’ll make you scream.”   
  
Sachiro, insufferable beautiful man, laughs. He laughs loud and soft at the same time, a sound that makes Korai’s entire body and mind sing with the pleasure of hearing it.   
  
“I’d like to see you- _oh-_ ” Sachiro’s words get choked off and he feels fingers stutter and trace over his back, digging into his shoulders and almost upsetting the brutal rhythm he’d set. “You- Korai-”   
  
“Yeah, baby?” he says, breathless. Unhinged. He doesn’t increase the pace, doesn’t slow it down. Keeps fucking into Sachiro at a simmering, tight hot tension. There’s a telltale shudder in Sachiro’s calf and he sits back on his knees, hands stroking up and down those strong thighs to feel the way they shake and spasm first hand. “That’s it, good- You’re doing so good, do you like that?”   
  
Sachiro doesn’t answer. Can’t answer. Korai bottoms out and stays there.   
  
His boyfriends eyes fly open, pupils blown wide with only a sliver of hazel left around them. “Why have you- God, I-”   
  
“I love seeing you like this,” Korai says, lifting Sachiro’s leg to his shoulder and pressing the tenderest of kisses to his calf.   
  
“Fuck you. Fuck me. Come on, come _on-”_ _  
_ _  
_ Korai leans down, bending Sachiro with the movement, wraps a hand around his throat and squeezes gently at the sides. Slips his fingers under the leather collar and decides he needs to pay it more attention next time. Sachiro goes limp and Korai almost cums from the sight alone. “You need to answer me, baby.”   
  
It takes a moment but Sachiro slowly comes to, rolling his hips mindlessly and nodding. “I like it, it’s so-” Korai holds his legs as he fucks into him, keeping him somewhat restrained and grounded, “That’s so good. Yeah, daddy, there-”   
  
“There?” He shifts his angle, grateful he’s an athlete, thankful for the way he’s honed his body if it means he gets to give Sachiro this amount of pleasure. He slows his pace, not sure why it turns him on to see Sachiro get so frustrated and desperate. It’s usually the other way round. Korai is usually impulsive, demanding. Sachiro like this, Sachiro legs in the air, hands digging into Korai’s biceps, head thrown back- Sachiro like this is an exquisite sight. “I wish you could see yourself right now, I wish you could, god- One day we should-”   
  
“Shut your fucking mouth and _fuck me,_ ” Sachiro hisses, snarls. It gives him whiplash, how quickly he goes from fucked out and teteering in subspace, to this, bratty and demanding.   
  
And at the very core of it, at the very base of this entire night, is Korai’s desperation to please Sachiro. To give him everything he could ever want.   
  
And so he holds Sachiro’s legs by the hinges of his knees, pins down those long legs. And he fucks him. Hard, frantic, deep and powerful.   
  
He’s not going to last, he’s not going to last, he’s not-   
  
“ _There,_ ahh, fuck- There, like that, like that!” Sachiro screams, finally, his body splattered with the pink of his flush. His hair matted to his forehead. Korai know’s he’s not faring much better, body tense and fucking into Sachiro like he was born for it, like every muscle in his body was honed for this act and this act alone.   
  
God, he’s so tense it almost hurts. He’s holding himself on the edge with sheer willpower and his minds going fuzzy. Sachiro’s desperate moans, the screams for more, the way he keens and tilts his hips and claws at Korai’s back. It tells him he’s doing a good job, his steady, deep thrusts, slamming the headboard against the wall and keeping Sachiro on his cock with the momentum.  
  
“You’re so-” his voice is a rasp, a husky ferocious thing that betrays the climax he’s holding at bay. “God, you’re so tight, baby, are you-”   
  
“Please, _daddy,”_ Sachiro chokes out, breathing heavily, losing himself. He watches the bob of his throat, the sweat trickling down the sharp jutt of his jaw. The flush that sinks into the muscles on his chest, and the dark swirls of hair along the top of his thighs. He’s so fucking gorgeous, he’s so beautiful, he’s so sexy- “I’m- Please, please, put a hand on me, please-”   
  
Sachiro seems to have forgotten he has two working hands himself, that he can let go of Korai’s arms and jerk himself off. If he’s being honest, he likes it. Likes the rush of power.   
  
“Yeah, I’ve got you,” he says, and he means it with everything that he is. He wraps a hand around Sahciro’s cock, neglected until that point, almost too hot and so hard it curves against his abs. The time for teasing is over, he jerks Sachiro hard and fast, matching pace with his thrusts. The noises Sachiro lets out can’t be human. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I love you, I love you, I love you-”   
  
Sachiro’s hands find his hair, tugging, yanking him down to crash their lips together for a second, moaning soft and desperate into his mouth. They get louder, higher in pitch. Sachiro throws a hand over his mouth before Korai shakes his head, lets go of his knee to yank it off his bitten lips.   
  
“Let me hear you,” he pants, “I want to hear you.”   
  
Sachiro doesn’t look away. Korai can’t look away. Their eyes find each other's gazes, hold each other in limbo as the pleasure pushes them both, relentlessly, unforgivingly to boiling point. 

Sachiro’s entire body freezes under Korai. His legs lock around Korai’s waist, and hold him there, hostage between his legs. His hips jerk so hard it almost hurts. Korai fucks him through the start of his orgams and feels his own muscles ripple and shake, feels his climax slam into him like a tidal wave, feels himself lose control and the sheer iron will he had over the orgasm he’d been denying.   
  
He thinks he blacks out. He’s not sure. Because he hadn’t broken eye contact with Sachiro the entire time, and nothing really exists outside of the heavy pulse of their shared orgasm.

  
And then his thighs tremble and he slumps. Face buried in the curve of Sachiro’s neck and cock softening enough to slip out of his boyfriend.   
  
“I love you,” he whispers, voice hoarse. He doesn’t want to pull away. Can’t bring himself too. He feels floaty and high and shaken to his core by what they’d shared.   
  
Sachiro’s arms wrap around him and his hand finds his hair. “I love you too,” he responds immediately, his voice rough and hoarse from his screaming. The pleasure pleasure ebbs away at them slowly like lazy waves on the shore, sinking into their bones like water into sand.  
  
“Are you okay?” Korai manages, before he’s even fully got his breath back. His cheek is squished against Sachiro’s collar bone, pressed heart to heart.   
  
Sachiros’ fingers, long, capable, strong, card through his hair and rub gently over his pulse point. He takes in a deep breath that’s almost a sigh. “I think-” Sachiro starts, and Korai wonders how it was he’d ever managed to get this lucky. To be laid in Sachiro’s arms after what they’d just done. To have those memories for memories. To have that voice, those lips, that sigh, ingrained into his mind. “That I’m the luckiest man alive.”   
  
Korai lifts his head, smiles lazily and half lidded, cups Sachiro’s face and seals the shared thought with a lingering little kiss.

“Me too,” he whispers in the steamy air between their lips.


End file.
